4-Way Consent
by sitabethel
Summary: Ryou said The Spirit could use his body, but it's still tricky when four people share two bodies.


*****This was a Tumblr prompt for the Lemonade Stand that wanted to explore Yami Marik's "unholy oral fixation" with bonus points if it had to do with Marik repressing something. It ended up exploring the problematic nature of trying to have full out consent with 4 people essentially crammed into 2 bodies (but they all have a good talk and work it out in the end, so I'm not going tag it as dub-con because it's too mild for that, but**

 **SMALL DISCLAIMER:**

 **Marik does cry "off screen" because of a hickey. That's why everyone ends up talking and working everything out).**

* * *

They clawed at each other's clothing like animals. Bakura leaned forward, but Marik turned his head, avoiding the kiss, so Bakura bit the tender, copper flesh above the gold collar on Marik's throat instead.

Marik slapped him.

Bakura held the side of his face, smirking. "So hurting people really does get you off?"

"Keep your mouth off of me."

"A true romantic." His voice dripped with bitter irony; his laugh echoed in the small bedroom.

"It's disgusting," Marik said, slipping out of his jeans.

"Everything about human bodies is disgusting. Wait until the main event."

Marik wrinkled his face, but not Bakura. Bakura licked his teeth with morbid anticipation. Marik growled and lunged at him. They struggled, but Marik managed to shove Bakura onto the mattress, pinning his wrists above his head and using a knee to spread his legs. There was already lube lying on one of the pillows, Marik shoved it into Bakura's chest.

"Prep yourself."

"No."

"I'm not shoving my fingers into your asshole. That's sick."

"And your cock?"

"I don't touch food with my cock."

Bakura rolled his eyes. "Fine, skip the prep."

Marik frowned. "Just do it yourself."

Bakura gave him a demure smile. "No, I want you to do it."

"I'll tear your virgin asshole apart before I touch it."

Bakura shrugged.

"You know, you should really take care of your vessel better if he's as weak as you say he is."

Bakura's smirk was a constant of nature, like the force of gravity or the orbit of the earth around the sun. If it changed, it did so over millennia and one never lived long enough to notice.

"I've put him through worse than a night with you, Ishtar."

"Can he see us?"

"No, he's in his Soul Room."

"Does he know?"

"Yes."

"How sweet." Marik snorted. "Even you're not a bastard enough to fuck without consent."

"What about you? You've been having a lot of headaches lately, and there's a shadow in your eyes."

"He likes violence." Marik gripped Bakura's throat, leaning close. "And this isn't going to be sweet."

Bakura spread his legs a little wider, daring Marik.

Marik gestured to the lube with his chin. "You better do with that what you will because I'm about to start regardless."

Bakura snatched the bottle and poured it cold onto Marik's hot, engorged cock. Marik hissed at the chill of it, but allowed Bakura to stroke him until his cock shined with lubrication. As soon as he set the lube aside Marik slammed his hips forward. Bakura held his breath. Marik could see that he was visibly trying to relax to assist Marik in entering, but Bakura's unprepared body resisted. His entrance was too tight and the friction grated against them both as Marik forced his way inside.

They each hid a wince, trying not to let the other see. Once Marik managed to sheath himself into Bakura's body, he paused as they both panted. He wondered if he shouldn't just pull out and prep Bakura, allow some foreplay, give their bodies time to adjust and prepare and yearn for the event, but his own physical form perturbed Marik and prevented him from succumbing to the urge to be more gentle. He should have been a god, above carnal need, but he had forfeited his duel, laid down his ambitions and when he'd realized that Bakura had reclaimed the Ring, and that the Spirit was possessing the host yet again, he'd been compelled to seek him out, and then compelled to know his flesh.

Bakura ran a hand up Marik's chest, his fingers brushing against the tip of Marik's nipple. The light touch caused Marik to shiver, made his cock twitch. Marik eased out and fought back inside. Bakura sucked in a sharp breath, grabbing Marik's shoulder but careful to avoid his scars.

Marik stared down at the Spirit in his stolen body. His face was bright red and fevered. Sweat, much to Marik's dismay, already jeweled his chest and forehead. Marik slid out and ignored the overwhelming pressure as he shoved in a third time. Bakura sucked in another breath, and although he looked uncomfortable, there was definitely lust in his expression as well.

Marik grabbed the lube and squirted more onto them, hoping it'd help. It was still rough, but the friction was giving way to something wanton and desperate within Marik. He moved his hips in a slow rhythm, grunting with each thrust.

Bakura sighed, eyes half lidded, so used to pain that he didn't even realize that tender was an option. Marik took advantage of that, speeding up, finding his own pleasure in his rhythm and watching Bakura's face the entire time.

Bakura's lips parted, a soft pant escaping him. Marik killed the strange urge to lean forward and touch their lips together, reminding himself that the human mouth was as filthy as a komodo dragon's.

"Marik," Bakura whispered in a daze, and Marik enjoyed the sound of his own name far too much.

Marik didn't know how to act, the urge to kiss building to hysteria in his mind. He compensated by going faster, harder, tugging on Bakura's hair, digging his nails into the perfect white of his skin. Bakura took the abuse in stride, arching into it, calling out for it. He hitched up his hips, rutting his cock against Marik's stomach.

Marik grabbed the lube and filled his palm. He swore to himself, before they started, that he wasn't going to soil his hands with the greasy, gleaming liquid, that he'd make Bakura do everything _base_ , but Bakura was kneading Marik's sides, lost the their act and desperate, and Marik thought it only fair to reward Bakura for indulging Marik in all his particularities and violence.

He grabbed Bakura's cock at the base and slid his hand up, allowing the lube in his palm to coat Bakura's shaft. Bakura called out, wrapping his legs around Marik's waist. The feeling of Bakura's legs brushing the lowest of Marik's scars sent a strange jolt through him. He froze, prepared to jerk away, but he realized that he _liked_ the sensation.

Marik started stroking Bakura as fast as he could, denying how erotic Bakura's moans and whines were, and how much he enjoyed the feeling of lube-wet burning flesh against his hand. Bakura curled up, pressing his forehead against Marik's chest as he came. It splashed over his stomach, over Marik's hand, a dollop even stuck to Marik's stomach. A shiver ran through him, and as much as Marik wanted it to be disgust that caused the reaction, he felt himself tighten in excitement, the very animal, living nature of the act of Bakura coming inciting Marik's own orgasm. He felt himself release, Bakura's asshole became slick for the last few pumps, making Marik succumb to his own, quiet moans.

"Not bad," Bakura teased, flushed and grinning.

"You're disgusting." Marik wiped his hand against Bakura's thigh, and then again on his sheets.

Bakura purred. "Got you a little dirty after all, didn't I?"

"I'm taking a shower and going back to my hotel now."

Bakura laughed, closing his eyes and rolling to his side. "Whatever you want, but you can take a nap first if you want."

Marik realized he was exhausted, all the usual tension in his muscles gone and his back loose and relaxed. The sweat should bother him, make his scars itch, but it didn't. He felt good. Marik decided that was a good reason to shut his eyes and savor the moment before leaving.

* * *

Ryou groaned into a wakeful state, his body sore and throbbing. He rubbed his head, forcing himself into a sitting position. "Damn, Spirit, I said you could use my body, but I didn't say you could destroy it."

There was no answer in his mind where he often heard the Spirit's voice. Based on the silence, and the way Ryou's body felt, he could only assume that he and Marik had had an interesting time the night before. He was happy for them, noticing that the more time they spent together the less they seemed like the conspirators they'd been during the Battle City finals and the more they seemed like regular people- hurt, furious, and damaged people, but people all the same.

Ryou's mind wandered to breakfast. He wanted crêpes- strawberry and banana ones smothered in whipped cream. He probably didn't have a single ingredient. The Spirit was awful about shopping for food or feeding their body, but Ryou's stomach growled and he decided it was worth a trip to the store even if every muscle in his body throbbed.

Ryou dropped his hands from his head, but before he could stumble out of bed, a narrow pain attacked his throat. Ryou's fingers flew to his neck, he felt the rope he used for the Ring digging into his skin as someone from behind attempted to strangle him. Cutting his skin with his fingernails, Ryou managed to slip his fingers between the rope and his throat, pulling in the opposite direction and fighting for a weak, wheezing breath.

Adrenaline rushed through his system. Ryou heard everything, saw everything with heightened clarity. The way the sweat rolling down his temples passed each pore, the blood rushing through him with each thunderous pound of his heart, the faint shadow in the corner were a spider built a web that Ryou had never noticed until that moment, and he thought it ironic since he felt as weak as a white moth struggling against a huge spider at that very moment.

Then the tension in the rope gave way; the rope itself snapping in the struggle. The air that rushed into Ryou's lungs felt cold enough to burn. Ryou scrabbled to get the Ring before his attacker could steal it- not that a thief would get very far if they were stupid enough to wear the Item, but still, Ryou didn't want to explain why there was a charred corpse in his apartment complex.

"No you don't!" A voice laughed from behind Ryou as he tugged the rope out of Ryou's hands.

Ryou cried out, the rope burning his palms as it pulled away from his tight grasp. His right hand was fine, but the scarred left hand tingled in an odd way from the sensation of the rope burn. Rubbing his hands, Ryou looked behind him, realizing that it was Marik, still naked and in his bed.

"I thought the Other Yugi got rid of you."

A cold, bitter cackle echoed in the room. "No, Marik banished me from his heart, but then he let me right back in the next time he didn't want to deal with something, and there's so much he still can't deal with."

Ryou held out his still burning right hand. "May I have my Ring back, please?"

"This?" The not-quite Marik flung the Ring against the wall on the other end of the room. "I'm afraid that bothersome thief isn't going to be able to help you out of this."

Ryou snorted. "Relying on him for help isn't exactly the best strategy. I simply prefer keeping the Ring close to me at all times."

"And why's that?" Not-Marik smirked. He looked a lot like Marik when he smirked except for the wild, sun-spiked hair.

"Because it's dangerous if anyone else touches it … and it's _mine_."

He snorted. "Don't worry. I'll make sure they bury you with it." He slammed Ryou into the mattress, pinning Ryou's wrists above his head and leering down at him.

"It's funny thinking about that damn fool trapped in a Ring and a coffin buried six feet underground."

"I'm going to be cremated. I want my ashes scattered in the same woods as my mother and sister's ashes. I already have a will." Ryou said the words like cold, simple truths, and they were.

The deranged look on the Other Marik's face twisted, as if he wasn't sure how to respond.

"If I drag you out into the woods and bury you myself then it won't really matter, will it?" he asked.

"I suppose not."

The Other Marik sneered. "Don't act like this doesn't concern you. As if you weren't afraid."

"I'm not afraid, not of dying, not even of being tortured, and begging for my life is useless, so why waste my last moments pleading?"

Marik snorted. "It makes it more fun for me."

Ryou started laughing. Unlike his other half, Ryou's laughter was sweet and joyous to hear.

"Okay, okay, I'll try. It's like role-playing, right?" He closed his eyes and turned away, as if in sleep.

The other Marik leaned close. "What are you-"

He cut his words short when Ryou began to cry. Beautiful, crystal tears rolled down his porcelain cheeks, Ryou looked up at his captor with desperate, frightened eyes.

"Please … don't. Don't hurt me. Let me go, please. I promise I won't tell anyone you're back."

The dark alter ego licked his lips, mouth dropping into a lopsided smile.

"My wrists hurt. P-please let go."

Marik's shadow squeezed them more, humming approval when Ryou cried out in pain.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because it's fun," the shadow whispered.

"W-what are you going to do to me? I'm so frightened. Are you going to hurt me?"

"Yes."

Ryou whimpered, struggling to free himself from the Shadow's hold.

"Yes. Struggle. Thrash. It's beautiful." He bent down, licking the side of Ryou's face.

"Ugh! That's gross, not scary! Stop it! I can't stay in character if you're not even going to put any effort into your half."

"What?" The Shadow furrowed his brow.

"That wasn't scary. You're not scary. Put a little more into it."

"Fuck you."

Ryou gave him a dry laugh. He flipped them so that he lay on top of the Shadow, digging his thumbnail into Marik's jugular.

"Physical threat helps. Always keep it on the edge, enough to hurt but always with the promise of more. Stay random, too. The fear of pain is worse than the pain itself."

"I know that," The Shadow snapped.

Ryou tugged at his hair, drawing a hiss from the Shadow.

"Do you?"

"I can overpower you at any time," he growled. "I'm just seeing how far you'll go first. I enjoy pain, too."

"Of course. Role play." Ryou reached over and snatched a few stray zip ties laying on his nightstand.

He used them to lash the Shadow's wrists together, far tighter than he normally would, but he knew the alter ego could handle it.

"Tell me if it tingles." Ryou grazed his nails down the Shadow's cheek. "I don't want to cause nerve damage, it might dull the pain."

The Shadow grinned.

Ryou kept tracing lightly over the Shadow's body with his fingertips.

"I don't see the point-" he called out in pain when Ryou chose that moment to rake his nails down the Shadow's chest hard enough to break the skin.

He arched into the pain, face flushing and eyes growing dull and fuzzy.

"Wait here." Ryou ran to the kitchen.

He looked in the fridge for any snacks. There were grapes, probably Marik's, but the Shadow was technically Marik, so Ryou figured it was okay. He filled a bowl full and carried it with him to the bedroom. Straddling the Shadow's body, Ryou took turns feeding himself and his victim.

"You call this scary?"

"No, I was hungry."

The Shadow cackled, but didn't complain when Ryou shoved another grape into his mouth. The Shadow bit Ryou's fingers, refusing to let go. Ryou slapped him with his free hand, hard enough to make his head turn.

"I'd get my hot glue gun if I wasn't being respectful to Marik's body."

"Tch, yes, very respectful."

"Pliers would also work. I could rip out nails."

"Nice. Read that in a book?"

"Movie. I love horror movies. We should watch one some time."

He laughed again. "You're not going to live long enough."

Ryou teased his fingers along Marik's body again. "No. I suppose not. Pity. This is fun."

"Oh? Like hurting people?"

"Just you." Ryou pinched Marik's nipple and twisted until he knew it'd burn.

The Shadow hitched up again, only his breath was more of a gasp then a scream.

"That's not scary."

"No?" Ryou twisted the other one as well.

"N-no, it's … something different."

"At least it's not gross like licking."

The Shadow snorted. "What would you do if you wanted to lick and make it frightening?"

"Bite."

"Yeah?"

Ryou bent forward, biting down past Marik's bottom lip and gnashing his teeth into Marik's skin. The Shadow screamed. Ryou licked at his own teeth marks in Marik's flesh.

"You're not as good as me at playing victim."

"Fine, I'll play along, but when we switch again you can't complain when I lick you."

"What is up with you and licking?"

"It's the texture."

"Tongues are for kisses not torture."

"Kisses?" The other one asked, blinking lavender eyes at Ryou.

Ryou feed him a grape. "Yeah, you know, French kisses."

"I don't know." He shook his head.

Ryou laughed. "Come on. If you want a kiss, just ask. You don't have to play dumb."

"I'm not dumb. Fuck you!"

The sudden anger made Ryou set the empty bowl on the nightstand before looking at Marik's other half again.

"You _really_ don't know what a kiss is?"

"Does it have to do with torture and death?"

"Is that a joke, sarcasm, or a legitimate question?"

Marik's other half looked away and growled. "Nevermind. Quit talking about stupid shit and be scary already."

"Wait, wait, timeout." Ryou crossed his hands to form a T. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I- want to try it?"

"Try kisses?"

Ryou shrugged, strands of white falling into his face.

"Yeah, I mean, we've already slept together, sort of. At least our bodies have, because our other halves." Ryou's eyes grew round. "Um, did you know-"

"They fucked?" The other Marik snorted. "I don't care."

"But you don't know what kissing is?"

"I can't experience things Marik hasn't experienced."

"You mean they haven't- those two are hopeless." Ryou sighed.

"But," Marik's other half paused. "With kissing, you get to use your tongue a lot?"

Ryou grinned, leaning down and flicking his tongue across Marik's bottom lip. The other Marik gasped, and Ryou glanced up at him. His eyes were dilated, mouth slack so he could suck in deep breaths. Ryou dipped down for another pass, this time thrusting his tongue into the other Marik's mouth.

He sat up, forcing Ryou into his lap. His wrist were still bound together, but he looped them around Ryou's neck. He plunged his tongue into Ryou's mouth, swirling it around, then he sucked on Ryou's bottom lip, ending with a hint of teeth before they broke apart for air.

"Are you sure that's your first time?" Ryou asked between heavy breaths.

"Did I do it wrong?"

"No." Ryou grabbed the other's hair and pulled them back together.

Their kisses were sloppy, too much tongue, too much licking, but Ryou couldn't get enough. It was wet and messy but sensual in a way his body yearned for. Each time he tugged the other's hair, the other Marik grunted in pleasure, so Ryou tugged without mercy, occasionally biting until he could almost taste iron.

They pulled back. Ryou wiped his mouth and then felt bad that the other Marik was tied.

"I'm going to untie you and cook you breakfast."

"I never said I'd spare you."

Ryou yanked the other Marik's hair again, bringing their faces close. "I don't necessarily want to be spared. Not from your mouth at least."

"You're simply delaying the inevitable."

"What is life if not the continuous delaying of death?"

"Pain. Life is pain."

Ryou let go of his hair. "Then wouldn't death be a release? The end to pain?"

"It never ends in the Shadows."

Their eyes searched each other until Ryou answered. "I know. I've felt it. I still enjoy kissing you. I don't care if you're bad. The Spirit's bad. Marik's bad. Maybe I am too. Maybe I belong here with the rest of you."

"I want to know what your skin tastes like before I kill you."

Ryou tilted back his head, exposing his throat. "Then find out."

The other Marik licked up Ryou's throat, and Ryou moaned. After a few times his licks turned into more kissing. Ryou moaned again, unrestricted, forgetting the peril of the creature nibbling oh so gently against Ryou's jugular.

"Yes," Ryou hissed. "Yes."

The other Marik pulled back. "I feel strange."

"You're probably hungry."

He scowled. "You're really going to cook for me?"

"I'll have to run to the store for ingredients, but I'd like to make crêpes."

The other half unwrapped his arms from around Ryou's neck. Ryou used a pair of craft scissors to cut the zip ties.

"I'll leave the Ring on the floor," Ryou said.

Marik's other half looked surprised at this.

Ryou shrugged. "I don't want him taking over for a little while yet."

The other Marik snorted and turned away like he didn't care. Ryou rubbed his wrists for a moment, making sure he hadn't hurt his mock-prisoner. Then he took a quick, hot shower, dressed, and jogged to the closest market to pick up groceries before returning home. The other Marik sat on the couch, showered and dressed as well, and watching cartoons.

"I'm back," Ryou said.

"I didn't expect you to return," The other Marik answered. "You should have run."

"This is my place, and the Ring's here. That's mine, too."

"Thought you were _his_ vessel."

"Then why does he call me landlord? He knows he's only renting. He just likes to sound tough." Ryou laughed as he went into the kitchen.

He tied his hair back and started cooking, humming as he mixed the batter for the crêpes. It'd been a long time since Ryou could enjoy a leisurely morning on his own. It was rather nice. Ryou prefered meals at the table, but Marik's other half looked mesmerized by the television screen, so Ryou brought their food out on a tray.

The other Marik stared at it for a long time before taking a plate and glass of juice. "... thanks."

"This will happen again, you know. The other two like each other."

"They like fucking."

"You think it's that simple? I don't."

"Marik doesn't care about people- we don't care about people. Game pieces."

"I care about all my game pieces." Ryou gestured to his favorite Monster World figurines displayed throughout his apartment.

"It's not the same."

"Oh?" Ryou raised an eyebrow. A good-natured smile slipped over his lips. "How do you know the difference if you've never felt it?"

"It's logical that there's a difference."

"Have you ever heard the story of the Velveteen Rabbit?" Ryou asked, forking a large strawberry whole into his mouth.

"Of course not. We don't have time to read."

"I'll let you borrow it. You should read it- don't let Marik fuck with it."

A dark laughed came from the other's lips. "I'll only read it to piss Marik off."

"That a good enough reason as any. Are the crêpes good?"

"... yes."

Ryou smiled again. "I'm glad."

They ate, and Ryou cleaned up while the other Marik continued to stare with fascination at the television. When he returned, Ryou realized that the other Marik lay curled on the sofa asleep- his hair limp and falling around his shoulders. Ryou hid a chuckle behind his hand at how endearing Marik looked when he slept, which was nothing like how he looked when awake. Ryou sighed, and went to his room to fetch the Ring.

* * *

Bakura dropped down to his knees, undoing Marik's fly and pulling out his already growing cock. After a few good pumps of his fists, Bakura leaned close and parted his lips. Marik grabbed his hair and yanked back, glaring down at Bakura.

"I told you to keep your mouth away from me."

"Set's balls, Marik, I was only going to suck your cock, not kiss you."

"What is with you trying to put your mouth on my body?"

"It's what people _do_. How fucking repressed are they in that tomb you grew up in?" Bakura jumped to his feet, grabbing Marik by the back of the head and drawing him in.

Marik clenched his fists, expecting a stolen kiss, preparing to break Bakura's nose, but all Bakura did was press their noses together.

"What. The. _Fuck_ , Bakura?" Marik snarled a breath away from Bakura's mouth.

"This is how my parents kissed." Bakura laughed. It was the first time Marik ever heard him laugh in earnest. "This is how everyone used to kiss. No mouths."

"What? Are we married now?" Marik snapped, but his anger came from the fact that he had felt his cheeks heat up and his heartbeat quicken.

Bakura backed away. "I just thought it was funny."

"Ha, ha, now take off your clothes. I don't have all fucking night."

"What? You don't plan on staying and cuddling?"

"No way I'm staying the night again. I don't even remember how I ended up on the couch."

Bakura frowned. "You don't?"

"No. Why? Do you?"

Bakura shook his head no but answered, "Ryou said your alter ego's back."

Marik rubbed his wrists, remembering the pain in them and the burning of his lips when he'd woken up and wondering what his other self had done to him. "That's impossible."

"Ryou can't lie to me. I'd sense it."

"You're alive. That means it's impossible."

Bakura shrugged. "He mentioned cooking breakfast. I suppose even sociopaths need to eat."

"Why didn't you interfere."

"Ryou lost the Ring in a struggle."

Marik's eyes flicked away. "Is he alright?"

"Do I look hurt?"

"You wouldn't show it."

Bakura answered with his patented smirk.

Marik crossed his arms on the chest. "If you don't take off your clothes right now-"

"Yes, yes, you're far too busy with laying awake at night by yourself to bother talking to me." Bakura winked as he rolled his shirt up over his shoulders and then dropped his pants to the ground. "You know, I wouldn't talk so much if you shut me up with your mouth."

Marik made a disgusted sound and the Spirit laughed. He stretched out long, naked, and white onto the sheets.

"Prep yourself," Marik ordered.

"I want you to do it," Bakura said.

"If you think you can humiliate me by cajoling me into dirtying myself then-"

"It's sex, Marik. You're part of it, not above it."

"I'm not prepping you."

"Then we're doing it like last time."

Marik's mind boiled over with anger. He jumped on the mattress and doused his own cock with the cold lube. He'd been hard since after he'd seen Bakura's lips part so close to his cock, but he didn't want to admit it.

He was expecting resistance from Bakura's body this time, so Marik crammed himself in without mercy, ignoring his own discomfort and feeling satisfaction at the sound of Bakura's shocked grunt.

"This would be easier if you weren't stubborn."

Bakura sneered at him, gritting his teeth and bearing Marik's hard thrust, cock beginning to stiffen regardless of Marik's lack of grace.

"I could say the same."

"Why do you always argue?"

"Apparently it's your kink."

Marik growled in frustration, opting for actions instead of words and slamming hard into Bakura's ass. Bakura dragged his fingers down Marik's chest, causing the breath to choke in Marik's slid his hand back up and dragged it down again. His other hand caressing Marik's hip bone.

"What?" Marik growled, trying not to let the strange, gentle touches affect his pace.

"What?" Bakura growled back, eyes narrowed.

"You're touching."

"Did I catch a scar?" Bakura asked, the slightest hint of concern betraying his usual façade.

"No, but it's weird."

"Marik," Bakura growled out the name.

"What?"

Bakura saying Marik's name wasn't meant to be sensual, but the muscles in Marik's stomach hitched all the same.

"Your dick is in my asshole. _Right at this moment_. What am I supposed to do? Lay my hands by my side?"

"Are we going to do this now?"

"Yes."

"Can't we just fuck and argue later?"

Bakura flung his hands up over his head and turned away, a sound of pure frustration escaping him.

"Then hurry up, finish, and go. I can't get off like this."

Marik stopped mid-thrust, staring down at Bakura with a look of shock. He noticed the arguing had caused Bakura to lose his erection, he wasn't flushed like the night before, and his face was a mix of misery and anger.

"Bakura?"

"It's boring," Bakura hissed through clenched teeth.

Marik felt like there was more to it than that. There was always more to it than that with Bakura, but he wasn't sure _exactly what_. He pulled out, trying to figure out what to do, what he wanted. He didn't know himself, but it wasn't this. It wasn't Bakura looking away.

Marik reached out two fingers. He meant to graze Bakura's chest, but ending up resting his touch of the cold metal of the Ring.

" _Hurry_. I want to shower."

Marik flinched at the words, but knew that wasn't the right thing to do, not in front of Bakura. It was never wise to act like prey in front of Bakura.

Marik flicked at Bakura's delicate, pink nipple instead.

This time it was Bakura who flinched, and Marik suspected it was a pleasure reflex, so he pinched and twisted the nub until it was hard between Marik's fingers.

"What are you doing?"

"Tormenting you."

"Will you hurry up?"

"No." Marik moved to the other nipple.

A hint of need broke Bakura's frustrated tone. "Why are you doing this?"

"I like to watch you squirm." Marik decided to echo one of Bakura's earlier insults. "Also one of my kinks."

His hand moved over to the scars on Bakura's chest.

"Touch mine and I'll touch yours," Bakura warned.

Marik's hand hovered just beyond the white ridges.

"You're bluffing," Marik said, rolling his fingers over the rough texture of Bakura's scars.

Fast as a viper strike, Bakura reached up, fingers posed as if to scratch down Marik's back. Marik braced himself, preparing to knee Bakura in the crotch at the first sting of pain, but something changed in Bakura's posture at the last second. Instead of nails, only the soft, euphoric hint of a caress graced down Marik's back.

Marik called out, louder than he ever had in bed before. The sensation itself was dulled, the nerves in his back haphazard in what they could feel, but the fact that he felt _anything_ , that he _knew_ Bakura was tracing around the edges, seeking the least damaged areas of skin where Marik could feel the most, sent strangely charged jolts through Marik's body and made his cock more rigid than before.

He saturated Bakura's entrance with lube, and himself. It was abject, the liquid dripping onto the sheets, but Marik needed Bakura's heat wrapped back around his cock and he didn't want to fight his way in. He glided in easier than before, panting as Bakura's body clung around Marik's shaft and head.

Bakura moaned, a welcomed sound. Marik dug his knees into the bed for purchase, allowing Bakura's cock to grind against his belly.

Bakura moaned again, holding onto Marik's back, legs wrapping around Marik's waist like the last time they had slept together.

Marik couldn't seem to turn his eyes away from Bakura's face. His mouth was stretched out in an O as he screamed and his cheeks were coral.

Marik dared to brush the tip of his thumb against Bakura's bottom lip before pulling away, embarrassed that he'd done it. Bakura was too far gone to notice, so Marik reached between them and caressed Bakura's cock.

"Marik!"

"Oh Bakura," Marik sighed at hearing his name again. He liked the sound of it being screamed into the room. It made Marik feel like the god he wanted to be.

"Marik! Marik! Marik! Marik- fuck! _Nngh!"_

A hot splash shot across Marik's chest. He wrinkled his face in disgust at the sight of Bakura's jizz clinging to his skin like a strand of pearls.

"It's come," Bakura snarled at him, flushed and panting.

"It's on me," Marik shot back.

"So what?" Bakura took two fingers and scooped up as much as he could, cramming both fingers into his own mouth and sucking until his fingers gleamed.

Marik lost his breath, eyes wide in both disbelief and reluctant arousal. It _shouldn't_ have been alluring, it _shouldn't_ have made Marik thrust faster as he watched Bakura go for another dab to suck from his fingers, but watching Bakura, eager, shameless, wanton, brought Marik to an intense orgasm that had Marik dropping to the mattress only half conscious when he was done.

He felt Bakura wiping up his chest with tissue. "I'd happily lick you clean if it wasn't for your weird hang up."

Marik was too tired to argue. Instead he brushed his fingers up Bakura's arm because he couldn't manage a thank you.

* * *

The second time it happened, Ryou woke up more sore than the first time. He didn't even want to sit up. He settled for rolling over, but he rolled into a beautiful, scarred back. Ryou wasn't surprised to see Marik's body lying beside him, and he was delighted when he saw how the golden hair rose up against the pillows. Ryou slung his arm around the other Marik, nuzzling against his shoulder blades.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Being selfish," Ryou answered. "I hurt everywhere. I want a little comfort."

The other Marik turned around to face Ryou. "You hurt everywhere?"

Ryou nodded, nuzzling at the other Marik's chest now that he had turned around. "Especially my thighs and and my butt. I don't think they're very nice to each other."

"Of course not."

"But… it seems like the Spirit cares. I don't understand why he can't express that."

The other Marik snorted. He reached over and squeezed Ryou's ass. Ryou groaned as the other Marik worked the sore muscles; it was more than a little arousing although his ass felt raw. Ryou arched, pressing his hips closer to the other Marik's body.

"You make good pain noises," the other Marik whispered.

Ryou reached for the Ring, slipping it up over his head and setting it on the nightstand. The other Marik gave Ryou a feral grin. He shoved Ryou on his back, white hair scattering across the mattress, and started licking up and down Ryou's chest. He slid up to Ryou's throat, flicking his tongue against Ryou's jugular. Traveling back down, he stopped and bit Ryou's nipple until he squealed.

The other Marik released a dark chuckle. "Too hard?"

"Bite the other one," Ryou begged.

A devious spark flashed in the other Marik's lavender eyes. He bit again, scratching down Ryou's ribs at the same time and earning a delicious moan from Ryou's mouth. The other Marik sank lower, lapping at the exposed, white skin of Ryou's belly.

"Wait."

Ryou tried sitting up, but the other Marik pinned him down into the mattress. Ryou looked up at him and blushed.

"Let me shower. I'm sticky from last night."

"I don't care." He emphasised his point by leaving a trail of saliva from Ryou's navel to the center of his chest.

"I haven't even brushed my teeth."

"I don't care." The other Marik growled, pushing his mouth against Ryou's and prying Ryou's lips apart with his tongue in order to deepen the kiss.

Ryou moaned, yanking the other Marik's hair in order to separate them. "Come with me. I'll wash your back."

The other Marik paused, thinking. In the end he slipped off Ryou and helped him to his feet. They crowded into Ryou's tiny bathroom, brushing their teeth as they waited for the shower to run hot and fill the room with steam. Ryou whimpered when the first spray of heat prickled against his sore body.

"Moan more."

The other Marik grabbed Ryou by the waist and nibbled down Ryou's shoulders. Ryou did moan, but the more the other Marik nipped at his skin, the more Ryou forgot about his sore legs. Ryou managed to pull his thoughts together enough to grab a washcloth, lathering it up until it was covered in thick, white foam that matched Ryou's skin. He scrubbed his own skin and then worked on Marik's body. With the limbs and chest Ryou scrubbed roughly, knowing that the harshness of the act would please the other Marik, but when Ryou reached his back he only used his fingers, keeping his touch light, trying to ameliorate any discomfort irritating the other Marik's skin.

Marik's alter ego's reaction was surprising and wonderful. He leaned forward, bracing himself against the shower wall and giving Ryou full reign over his skin. Each time Ryou brushed his fingers against the other Marik's back, he shuddered and made soft, cooing noises.

Ryou leaned closer so he could whisper in the other Marik's ear. "I like your sweet sounds."

The breath caught in the other Marik's throat. "I feel … strange."

Ryou frowned. "Are you hungry again?"

"I don't think so, it's a … a strange feeling."

"Does it hurt?"

"A little. In my chest."

Ryou spun him around. "What kind of pain? Do you feel weak? Does Marik have health problems? Maybe we should take you to a doctor?"

"It's not a physical pain. It's a- a _feeling_."

Ryou blinked, trying to understand. "Do you mean an _emotion_?"

"Yeah…" he frowned. By the look of his face one would assumed he'd just confessed to his only sin.

Ryou chuckled, a fleeting thought slipped through his head and he says it out loud. "Don't tell me Marik's secretly falling in love with the Spirit and repressing the feelings into you."

The other Marik jerked back at the words. Ryou reached out, trying to stop him from falling in the tub, but all he managed to do was reverse the momentum, slipping himself and bringing them both down so quick that Ryou didn't have time to call out or catch a last breath. His head, near his temple, struck porcelain. Black burst into Ryou's mind, devouring his thoughts in the same way that summoning the Shadows devoured all the light in a room.

He felt a weight on him, the other Marik, and he felt hands cradling the back of his head. He heard his name, too, but didn't register it as his, simply a familiar sound reaching his ears in the same way the rush of water from the shower head was familiar to him.

"Ryou? Ryou? What do I do?"

"Hmmm?" Ryou moaned, disoriented, not wanting to admit the possibility of a concussion.

The other Marik turned off the water and scooped Ryou up into his arms, setting him on the counter and touching the knot on his forehead. His fingers came away dyed red. Ryou felt a trickle run down the curve of his brow. He glanced in the mirror. The cut was small; he'd be fine.

"What do I do? The other Marik asked.

"What?"

"What do I do?"

"I don't understand?" It wasn't his head that time. Ryou honestly wasn't sure what the other Marik meant.

He growled, pacing in front of Ryou. "How do I fix it? How do I make the bruise go away?"

Ryou blinked, still having a hard time believing that he'd heard the other Marik correctly. "You want … to help?"

He leaned close to Ryou, snarling with exposed teeth, veins irritated and pulsing in his forehead. Ryou smiled at him.

"You're concerned. That's sweet."

"No I- I just don't want you to get hurt by accident." He pouted. "I want to hurt you myself."

"Oh, is that what it is? Well, I guess you should get the first aid kit under the sink, then." Ryou laughed, although it made his head ring.

The other Marik rummaged beneath the sink until he found the first aid kit. He set it out on the counter and opened it.

Ryou pointed to cotton balls and disinfectant. "First you clean the cut. Use the rubbing alcohol- it'll make the cut hurt."

"Really?"

Ryou nodded "Yeah, it kills the germs, but it burns."

The other Marik raised his eyebrows with curious interest. He soaked a cotton ball in alcohol and pressed it against Ryou's forehead. Ryou told himself not to wince, but he did out of reflex. The other Marik's grin looked gruesome beneath the harsh, bathroom light.

"I didn't know curing people could hurt them."

"Everything hurts." Ryou sighed, closing his eyes.

"Kisses don't," the other Marik argued.

"They could if you bite too hard."

"Then it's not kissing; it's biting. Even I know the difference."

Ryou smirked. He almost looked like Bakura when he did it. The other Marik bit his lip, trying to hide the way that watching Ryou's face made him smile, but his lips betrayed him and curved up on their own. He put a small bandage on the cut on Ryou's forehead and dug through the medicine cabinet until he found a bottle of excedrin.

Ryou ran water from the facet, using his cupped palm to scoop water into his mouth and wash the pill down his throat. The other Marik dried off with a towel and then helped Ryou do the same. Ryou tried to scoot off of the counter, but the other Marik lifted him up again and carried him to the bedroom.

"I'm okay. You don't have to carry me."

"You forget." The other Marik settled Ryou into the blankets. "You're still my victim. I can do whatever I want to you."

Ryou's eyes lidded. He wondered if it was bad for his heartbeat to go up, but he didn't feel like he wasn't causing any harm to himself, so he decided to ignore the mild throb in his temple. He waited to be kissed, holding his breath, but nothing happened. Ryou opened his eyes fully, looking up at the other Marik who looked back down at him with slightly parted lips.

"Are you … okay?

"I'm afraid I'll hurt you."

Ryou shook his head. "You can't. Not more than they already have."

The other Marik narrowed his eyes. "How do you _know_?"

Ryou reached up and touched the other Marik's chest with the tips of two of his fingers. "I know."

The other Marik leaned down. His lips felt soft against Ryou's mouth. His tongue felt warm against Ryou's tongue. Ryou sighed through his nose. Ryou forgot about his aches as their tongues twined together. Each time Ryou pulled back for breath, he had to wipe the spit away from his lips because their kisses were still far too sloppy, but each time they crashed back together he'd open his mouth wide and welcome the other Marik's tongue.

In a fit of passion, Ryou dropped to the other Marik's neck, sucking below the gold collar.

" _Ahhh_ ," the other Marik moaned.

Ryou sucked hard and enjoyed each strangled cry flying from the other Marik's mouth. He bit the other Marik's collarbone, leaving gleaming bruises on each side of his the gold and another cluster near his left shoulder. Ryou started biting harder.

"Fuck! Fuck! Yes!" The other Marik rutted his cock against Ryou as Ryou bit him.

The alter ego shifted down, sucking on Ryou's neck with the same ferocity. The bites sent shivers of pleasure down Ryou's stomach. The other Marik lowered himself down to Ryou's chest, then stomach. Ryou parted his legs, hoping that the other Marik would stop frotting and shove his cock into Ryou. He yearned for an act that was both familiar to his body, and yet never experienced before by Ryou himself.

But the other Marik took Ryou's spread legs as a sign to move his face between them. His long tongue lapped at Ryou's balls, and Ryou clawed at the already crumpled bedsheets. Then the other Marik flicked his tongue down and down and down until he reached Ryou's asshole.

"Oh!" Ryou barked the single syllable. "Oh! Ohh!"

The other Marik tried circles, and figure eights. He used both the flat of his tongue and then the tip, and then he crammed the entire length of his tongue inside, making Ryou's toes curl as the other Marik fucked Ryou with his tongue. Ryou grabbed his cock. His hand shuffling up and down in a desperate attempt to make himself come while the other Marik's tongue was still inside him.

Come splattered across his belly and chest, hot as it hit his skin but cool mere seconds later. The other Marik wiped his mouth and looked at Ryou.

"Did you like that?"

Ryou's ass was throbbing sore and so was his temple, but he stared the other Marik in the eyes and nodded, licking his lips and beckoning the alter ego closer.

The other Marik knelt on the mattress in front of Ryou, and Ryou grabbed the base of his cock to hold it steady as he dropped his mouth down the shaft. The other Marik clenched his teeth, hissing in pleasure at the slight hint of teeth grazed him. He pressed a light touch into the back of Ryou's head, trying to avoid Ryou's already injured skull. Ryou hummed in appreciation the effort, although he wished the Other Marik would pull his hair.

The other Marik jerked his hips forward, unable to stop himself. He started bucking into Ryou's mouth in time with the bobs of Ryou's head. Ryou relaxed, letting the other Marik guide him back and forth, feeling the other Marik's cock swell even thicker as he drew close to orgasm. It became near unbearable. Ryou's jaw ached, saliva dribbled down his chin because he couldn't swallow, and his lips burned from the friction, but when the other Marik came it was all suddenly worth it, and the moan the other Marik growled out made Ryou feel like he was almost climaxing with him. Ryou swallowed.

The other Marik pulled away as the last spurt left his cock. He drew his tip against Ryou's bottom lip, smearing semen that Ryou lapped up with his tongue as he looked up at a smile that was all teeth and lust. There was a towel discarded on the floor, probably from the night before, and the Other Marik used it to clean up Ryou before laying down beside him.

"Now I want breakfast," Ryou said.

"You're always hungry."

Ryou shrugged, jumping up and going to the kitchen. He grabbed snacks out of the pantry, too tired to cook, and brought them back to the bed to share with the other Marik. After their impromptu breakfast, they lay back down and the other Marik scooped Ryou into his chest.

"You like this, right? This is what you were trying to do when you woke up?"

"Yes. This is exactly what I wanted."

* * *

They fell asleep like that, swaddled together. Ryou didn't realize he'd sunk back into his Soul Room until he was slammed against the wall of it- the Spirit snarling at him.

Ryou blinked at the angry face just out of reach of his own. "How? The Ring-"

"Is back on you where it belongs," the Spirit growled.

"I would have put it back on when I woke up. I just wanted a few hours to myself."

"About that- what did you do to him? Why is he bruised?"

"Who's bruised?"

"Marik!"

"Oh." Ryou sighed in relief when he realized why the Spirit was upset. "They're just hickies. Don't worry. We were only-"

The Spirit pulled Ryou away from the wall and slammed him back against it with all of his force. "Marik doesn't like it! Don't you ever lay a hand on his body again!"

"It's not only his body!" Ryou shouted back, surprised by the volume of his own voice.

"You sick fuck!" The Spirit screamed. "The crazy personality in the back of Marik's head doesn't count as a person! Stop fraternizing with it!"

"No! He _is_ a person! And I'll do whatever I damn well please with him!" Ryou shoved the Spirit back, hard, and it felt good to see the Spirit stumble backward in shock. Ryou stepped forward three steps. "This is all or nothing. I'm letting you use my body, even when I wake up hurting everywhere! Why shouldn't I get to feel nice in my own body? Why shouldn't I treat Marik's body like he treats mine- a vessel for something better- ignoring the original person inside!"

The Spirit cocked back his fist and landed a punch against Ryou's jaw. Ryou sprawled to the ground, rubbing his sore jaw and glaring up at Bakura.

"If you ever make him cry again, I swear I'll-"

"Wait!" Ryou's mouth dropped and his hand fell away. Suddenly, Ryou felt sick in the pit of his gut. "Marik cried?"

The Spirit crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. "He doesn't like to be kissed _anywhere_ and he sure as hell doesn't want to be _marked_ after what he's been through."

"I never thought …" Ryou stared at the floor. "I need to talk to him."

"No."

Ryou stood up. "Yes. We all need to talk. Right now. Bring them here. I know you can because I heard you talking to Marik during Battle City."

"He doesn't want to talk to you."

"Well he has to. We all have to. I already told you, this is all or none. We have to talk about it so something like this never happens again."

Bakura sighed and disappeared. Ryou sat down in a chair that he kept in his soul room and waited, but as soon as he saw the other Marik, Ryou sprang up and ran to him, too happy to see him to help himself. The other Marik lifted Ryou into the air. Neither spoke, instead they smashed their mouths together, their tongues working together. It was too strong, the feeling of being near the other Marik in his Soul Room. Ryou couldn't stop himself although a voice in the back of his mind reminded him that there were other people present.

"Stop it. That's disgusting." Marik scowled, leaning against the wall to keep himself as far away from everyone else as he could.

"Don't act like you're too good for it," the other half snapped, setting Ryou to his feet.

"We're not here to argue," Ryou said. "We're here to establish ground rules so that no gets hurt or causes harm to someone else." He turned to Marik and bowed low. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed that just because your other self was okay with something that it meant that you'd be okay with it as well. I promise to be more careful in the future and make sure I don't mark your skin in any way." Ryou straightened, biting his lip and rubbing his right arm. "Um, but do you think … maybe you could use more lube? I'm awful sore in the mornings."

Bakura laughed at the statement. "It's because his royal highness is too good to touch our asshole for a little preparation."

"I told you to do it yourself!"

"I told you, that it's _your_ job!"

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Ryou shouted, interrupting them. "Use a buttplug or something. I'm not asking for much! Just a little consideration to my body!"

"Quit acting above this!" The other Marik screamed. "I'm so sick of you pretending like you don't _want_ it."

"I _don't_!"

"You can't lie to me! I know you! I AM you! I want the things you secretly want but won't admit to. Anger, blood, coming all over his pretty, white face and then licking it off his lips yourself. You. _Want_. It."

"Liar!" Marik screamed.

"I'll prove it!" The other Marik lunged for his counterpart.

Both the Spirit and Ryou ran towards them, but before they reached, the other Marik grabbed Marik's face and forced his tongue into Marik's mouth. Ryou and his own other half stopped dead in their tracks, eyes wide and mouths slack as they watched Marik succumb to the kiss. His knees bent, he held onto his alter ego in order to keep from sinking to the ground. Marik's other half reached around and worked his fingers against the scars on Marik's back. Marik moaned into their linked mouths, his face flushed a brilliant coral as they kissed. Marik took over, standing straight and forcing his alter ego to tilt his head back as they struggled to breath through lips and tongues. It was beautiful to see, and Ryou regretted watching them break for air.

"Why did you do that?" Marik asked, but his voice was quiet instead of angry and he clung to his other self's shoulders with their chests pressed together.

"To show you," his double said. "I didn't know how to say it in words."

Marik's eyes flicked in Bakura's direction. "Maybe I could try to prep you at least once."

"That's quite gracious of you." Bakura snickered and licked his lips.

Marik snorted, turning around like he wanted to leave. "Anything else?"

Ryou glanced at Marik's other half. "Stay here for a little longer?"

He answered by tackling Ryou into his Soul Room's bed. They didn't even wait for their other halves to leave.

* * *

Bakura was always the one that decided to take over, tossing Ryou into his Soul Room with the careless entitlement that one has when they shove a cat out if their spot on the sofa. So when he found himself in control when he hadn't intended it, it confused him for a moment.

Until he saw Marik standing in front of him. Marik's eyes burned, the lilac color brighter than usual.

"Bedroom," Marik ordered.

It'd been over a week, so Bakura didn't argue about being ordered around. He threw off his shirt on his way to the bedroom and dropped his pants near the bed.

Marik shoved him into the mattress and crawled on top of him, already naked. He laced his fingers with Bakura's and bent down, plucking Bakura's bottom lip between his own.

The groan slipped away from Bakura's mouth before he realized he made it. Marik had mentioned prepping, but never kissing, and Bakura wondered if he hadn't been practicing with himself like that day in Ryou's Soul Room. He remembered the way that Marik's other half had brushed his fingers down Marik's back, so Bakura untwined their fingers in order to do the same.

Marik cooed beneath Bakura's touch, and that plus the way their lips kept brushing together had Bakura desperate to get started. He spread his legs, hitching up to try to put Marik's attention lower. Marik rolled his hips downward, giving Bakura a shiver of pleasure as their cocks slid together, but he kept his focus on Bakura's mouth, tracing the outline of Bakura's lips with his tongue.

Bakura suffered the euphoric torture of it for several minutes, but then he was ready to scream, bucking up against Marik with a steady rhythm and demanding Marik move things along. Marik chuckled, eyes still molten purple and far too bright. He slipped away and grabbed the lube out of the drawer, spreading the gel across Bakura's entrance before sticking a single finger inside of him.

"More," Bakura begged, hating the fact that he truly was begging.

Marik indulged him, wiggling in a second finger. He started pumping his fingers into Bakura's asshole and Bakura moaned up at the ceiling. Then Marik pushed in deeply and hooked his fingers, stabbing Bakura's nerves and turning his moans into cries of desire.

Marik pulled away, and Bakura whimpered, and if he had hated himself for begging, he loathed himself for whimpering, but he couldn't control himself with his cock hot and twitching against his stomach and his body screaming to be taken.

Marik coated himself in more lube, lining up the tip of his cock with Bakura's asshole and slipping inside. They both made loud, surprised groans. The first thrust was usually a struggle, but this time Marik slid straight in and as far back as he could.

"Fucking gods," Bakura groaned, chest pumping up and down as he tried to steady his breathing.

"Damn," Marik said in way of agreement, already slipping out and back in. "I- oh fuck."

Marik started moving in and out quicker than before. Bakura closed his eyes, lay back, and allowed Marik to take control, rocking their bodies and forcing the headboard to hit the wall. Bakura started wailing Marik's name, nowhere near coming but in such a fit of pleasure that he couldn't help himself.

Then Marik called out and shuddered, his rhythm breaking. Bakura opened his eyes in surprise and saw Marik staring down at him a face flushed from a mix of passion and embarrassment. The sight was enough to drive Bakura mad. It was too human. His brain couldn't fathom Marik looking anything less than a cruel god. It was even more unnerving because of the way the sight of him like that made Bakura's heart, not stop, but … flutter. Like he was dying, or perhaps falling in love.

Bakura grabbed his cock, taking solace in his need in order to avoid his thoughts.

Marik slipped out and whispered, "I have a better idea."

Bakura opened his mouth to ask, but Marik took Bakura's own cock away from him and licked up the shaft. Bakura screamed out Marik's name again. And when Marik started sucking, Bakura called out in a language he hadn't spoken in three thousand years and thought he'd forgotten.

* * *

Ryou yawned and stretched. He felt relaxed and drowsy, but the sunlight pouring through the window wouldn't let him fall back asleep. Ryou realized there was a comfortable weight half slung across his body and he realized it was the other Marik. Ryou couldn't resist combing the gold, spiky hair with his pale fingers.

"Morning," the other Marik muttered, still half asleep.

"Morning."

"How do you feel?"

Ryou thought about the question. "Great."

"Good. We practiced. To make sure we didn't hurt you again."

Ryou's chest swelled with a strange, pleasant pressure. "Thank you." Ryou bit his lip as another thought flitted through his mind. "I wouldn't mind watching you two practice."

The other Marik glanced up, raising an eyebrow and grinning. "Yeah?"

Ryou nodded. "Maybe I could even convince the Spirit to help me return the favor."

"If you couldn't, I bet Marik could." He nuzzled into Ryou's chest. "But first, let's nap a little longer."

Ryou hummed in agreement, wrapping his arms around the other Marik's body and enjoying the morning.


End file.
